misAdventures of Carl & Daryl: Daryl's Lessons
by ShazzyZhang
Summary: Daryl decides that math isn't as important as Lori makes it out to be and that Carl could use a different kind of learnin'. Rated T for cussing. Humor, parody, adventure. AWESOME! Please leave a review if you like it.


_AN: This for all of you who read the Further misAdventures because, gorrammit, I am making a point. I understand the logic behind forcing Carl to have some sort of normal routine, but schooling in the traditional sense ain't the way to go about it. Anyway, enjoy Daryl's POV on learnin'. This one was literally inspired by a comment by the user RejectedShyRebel18 and my epic editor's maniacal giggling. _

_Cheers._

_-Shazzy_

**More misAdventures: Daryl's lessons**

Daryl was restless. He hadn't seen Carl since the day that he'd tried to teach the kid how to gut and clean fish. He was still a little put off by the mixed results. Now that he thought about it, Rick seemed to be avoiding him too. Daryl wondered if maybe he had pushed it a little too far, making the kid puke was definitely not the way to win brownie points with Lori.

Daryl tried to shrug it off. Whatever, Lori couldn't stop him from teaching the kid _important_ things. He still scoffed at the idea of teaching Carl math when the whole world had gone to hell in a handbasket.

Math!

Daryl slapped himself in the forehead with the heel of his hand.

"Daryl, you're an idiot." He told himself aloud. He picked up his crossbow and the quiver of homemade bolts and set off to find Carl.

It didn't take long, the camp was small and familiar now. And it was just after lunch. Daryl knew exactly where Carl would be.

He took the long way around, hiding himself from sight behind the woos pile and the RV as he made his way to, what was in his mind, rescue Carl.

Carl was sitting quietly under the canopy of Dale's RV. He was being forced to do his 'lessons'. It was his schedule, and somehow, Daryl had managed to memorize it. Daryl pressed himself against the back of the RV, standing nonchalantly against what would have been the trunk on any other vehicle. His green eyes were darting back and forth, scanning for any signs of Carl's parents.

Luckily for him, the coast was clear.

"Psst!" Daryl hissed, trying to get Carl's attention.

Carl didn't look up from what he was writing.

"PSSSSST!" Daryl hissed louder and more obnoxiously.

Carl turned his head to stare blankly at Daryl. "Mom says I'm not allowed to go with you." Carl said dryly.

"Issat right?" Daryl asked. "Do you always do what yer ma says?"

Carl tilted his head, thinking about the question for a long moment.

"Yes." Carl replied earnestly.

"What's she gonna do if you come with me?" Daryl asked. "Ground you from watchin' TV?"

"We don't _have_ any TV." Carl replied in a know-it-all manner. "But she'd be pret-ty mad at me if I don't do my math."

"She'd probably be madder at me." Daryl replied, casting a quick glance around again, just to make sure Lori was nowhere in sight. "Where is your ma?"

Carl shrugged and continued to write on his paper. "Probably doing dishes or laundry or something. She said she would come back in a 'little bit.'" He added as if it was the worst thing in the world.

"I can teach you some math." Daryl offered.

Carl set his pencil down on the picnic table and turned to face Daryl. He folded his hands in his lap as if he was being chastised. He folded his lips in on themselves until the thin pink lines disappeared and he swung his feet.

"You know math?" He finally asked, incredulous about Daryl's actual education.

"Are you callin' me stupid?" Daryl asked, flashing hot with anger. "If you're gonna be a little shit about it, you can just sit here and do yer damn math. But if you wanna learn something _cool,_ you should come with me."

Carl's eyes went wide. "You said a bad word."

"I can say worse ones if you like." Daryl offered.

Carl frowned, thinking about it. "Are you really gonna teach me math?"

Daryl nodded and held out his hand. "But we gotta hurry before yer ma catches me."

The kid followed quickly as Daryl led him off to his own side of the camp. He'd set up new targets that looked more human-like for his own practice, but now he'd found someone else to teach.

"Awright." Daryl drawled, handing Carl his crossbow. "Now here's yer lesson. One walker. One gun."

"This is a crossbow." Carl interjected as he struggled to load the weapon Daryl favoured.

Daryl gave Carl a blank, unamused look. "I ain't got a gun, but just I dunno, pretend like my bow is a gun or something."

"Guns are easier to use." Carl informed the older man.

"Do you wanna learn this lesson or don'cha?" Daryl asked. "I can take you right back to yer math on paper."

Carl sighed and went back to struggling with the crossbow.

"One walker. One gun." Daryl said, ignoring the look Carl gave him. "One shot. One bullet. One head." He ran his hand through his hair and pointed at the target he'd rigged up. "One plus one plus one plus one plus one plus one equals one dead walker."

"You put too many 'ones' in there." Carl said as he felt the crossbow lock into place. "But I will forgive you because I'm holding the loaded weapon."

Daryl had to nod in approval. "Smart kid." He said with a smirk. "Now aim carefully. Ammo is in short supply so you want every shot to count. Especially if you're shootin' at walkers." He thought about that sentiment for a moment. "Or dinner."

Carl nodded and lifted the bow to his cheek, the way Daryl had taught him a few days ago. He took a long moment to aim the crossbow carefully.

"Don't flinch." Daryl said. "If this was a real walker, you'd only have one shot, so make it count."

"Wouldn't there be other people shooting too?" Carl asked unsteadily as he took his time aiming. "And will I really have this long to aim?"

"You never know, you might get separated from the group or something. As for the aiming, probably not." Daryl replied honestly. "But you'll practice and get better at it." He nodded to himself. "Are ya gonna shoot or what?"

Carl nodded and squeezed the trigger.

"What are you doing?"

Daryl and Carl both groaned. Lori had found them.

"Carl! I told you to do your math." Lori scolded as she stormed up to them.

Reluctantly, Carl handed over the crossbow to Daryl. Daryl took it and scowled at Lori.

"Daryl _was_ teaching me math." Carl replied. "One gun, plus one shot, plus one walker equals one dead walker!"

"I could also teach him to subtract if it pleases ya." Daryl quipped sarcastically.

Lori took Carl by the hand and glared at Daryl. "You will NOT be teaching my son anything further." She explained. "And you will stay away from him, or else."

"Are you threatening me?" Daryl asked with another smirk. "Good Lord, I'm terrified."

"Mom!" Carl shouted. "I _want_ to learn with Daryl! He teaches me things that I can use to help protect you!"

Daryl nodded innocently in agreement.

Lori looked at Carl. "We'll talk to your father about this." She said firmly. She shot Daryl one final, withering look and dragged Carl away.

Carl waved over his shoulder and Daryl returned it.

With a sigh, Daryl went to retrieve the arrow Carl had spent.

"Well I'll be damned." Daryl said, impressed as he pried the bolt from the target.

It was dead center in the head of the target.


End file.
